Caterwauling

Dear Santa:

It’s been years since I’ve written, but that doesn’t mean I don’t need a little holiday magic to get me through the season. I need a lot of magic, actually. Even naughty girls need love, too!

Love, Dawn

On iTunes: Bon Jovi, “I Believe”

At a party Dave and I attended on Sunday, there was a very pregnant gal there in a gorgeous stretch blue velvet party dress and black suede high-heeled boots that came up to her knees. I was kidding around with her, telling her that this is the one time in her life that she can be caught in public in sneakers and comfy clothes, but there she was, looking fabulous. Her response? “I’ve been waiting all year to wear these boots, and damn it, I’m wearing them!”

She was awesome — she said her friends joke with her, asking where she gets her “slutty maternity clothes.” She says she isn’t bothering with maternity wear, in favor of wearing what she wants and taking advantage of the generous cleavage being with child has given her. I couldn’t help smiling when she spoke. If only we all could appreciate the situations we are in and use them to our advantage so beautifully.

It was a great lesson for me to not save my party clothes or, for that matter, my spirit, for special occasions. I’ve got a fabulous dress in the closet just waiting to be worn — think it would be odd if I donned it to go to the post office?

On iTunes: Pretenders, “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”

Attitude is everything. Duh, I know you know that. But do we ever believe it?

I’m not dishing details because I don’t want to jinx anything. Not that there is a lot to tell. But it is truly amazing when you awaken and say, “This is going to be my week,” and then all signs start to point in that very direction.

The road is still a difficult one, and the journey is far from over. But you can’t fear mitigating circumstances all your life, either, or you’ll travel in circles instead of shooting upward. And sometimes, even staying on course is just as good as moving on, although cruise control was never my speed and I never intend for it to be. What you have to do is take the crappy, sappy music off the stereo and get some upbeat, ass-kicking rhythms back into your soul. I’ve often said the universe provides, but whether or not I particularly believed it is anybody’s guess. But I decided to believe in it, mostly because I ran out of other options. And it’s not too shabby, having a heart lightened by hope.

I have a story to tell. It took place in the early 1990s in Pittsburgh’s Market Square. It was the summertime, and I ran into a man who did maintenance work at my college. His name was Hal. He was always pleasant and soft-spoken. When I saw him on that late afternoon, he and I had a phenomenal conversation, whereupon he told me that I am a “chosen one.” I’ve often pondered this and never came up with what that meant. I do know that he pounded it into my head that I wasn’t meant to be understood but that I was meant to accomplish superhuman feats. He’d been psychic in his day and tried to suppress the imagery because he knew a child was going to die and it ripped him apart when the vision came true. And that he didn’t know me from anything other than seeing me hanging around in the cafe, studying and smoking, I thought he might be onto something. And I want his vision for me to come true. For those who are wondering, Hal died unexpectedly a few weeks after we talked. Crushed me the way the dark psychic images tormented him.

Thinking about him was one huge contributor in my discovering my faith again — my faith in humanity, in goodness and justice, in the sunrise coming after the sunset, in the ways of the muses and the universe and, most importantly, in me again. Because I have a world to change, apparently, so let’s get that party started, and soon!

On iTunes: Gwen Stefani, “Serious”

Dear WJLA-TV:

Love, Dawn

On iTunes: Gwen Stefani, “Hollaback Girl”

The weather had been inordinately gloomy of late — it’s just been dismal, with rain and fog o’plenty. If it’s going to rain, then let it thunderstorm. Get it the hell overwith already — rain like you mean it, Mother Nature! No more of this “I’m going to torture you slowly” crap. I get enough of that from life.

I feel like the seasons are affecting me more — bleak skies have intensified my case of the blahs. I suddenly “get” why people flock to the southern states … seeing vibrant citrus peels and wildflowers and rays of warm sunlight has to do wonders for one’s mentality. I have a friend who is literally addicted to colors — so much so that she recently planted flowers at midnight just so she could awaken and have them greet her on the way out of the house the next morning. It’s like color can set the tone of your day. Cosmopolitan tells us to wear orange when we want to feel upbeat. I personally wear a lot of hunter or kelly green because A) it’s my eye color and B) it’s the color of money. And that’s all that’s ever on my mind, anyway, of late.

I paid myself a compliment today, though. It’s not something I do much of anymore, but I remembered someone in authority once told me that I do everything the hard way — and she didn’t mean it as a compliment. She was intimidated, probably, of the thoroughness with which I tackled everything. And I kind of laughed about it today, realizing that I execute my screw-ups with fevor as well — I don’t just mess up a little bit, instead going for the f-up of the 14-karat variety! But that’s not the compliment — the real props I gave to myself were that I really never did take the easy route, even when it was apparent to me. I took chances and soared; I’ve also taken chances and landed splat on my face. But no matter what the situation, I didn’t do it half-assed.

Lately, I don’t have enough energy to do anything to the utmost of my ability, though, and I need to get out of my head and change that pronto. Someone (who didn’t even know me!) told me quite snarkily yesterday that I seem like my confidence is shot. And it kind of kicked me in the ass, like, no — I don’t show my “true” feelings that way. I am pleasant to cashiers and bank tellers and post office workers … nobody needs to know what’s happening inside my head. I wish them a happy holiday even though I’m having anything but.

However, when I do get out of the labrynth of my mind, I see the puzzle pieces trying so hard to come together. I’m not 100 percent sold on the “everything happens for a reason” idea, but I do accept wholeheartedly that everything happens to lead you to other things — hopefully, better ones. I mean, I can’t count the acts of kindness that come to me every time I start losing faith — it’s like the universe’s way of telling me to not give up because nobody has given up on me. Prime example: I asked a friend if he could help me with something. Although he couldn’t help as requested, he actually went and found someone who could help me, laying the groundwork so that I could swoop in and pick up the opportunity. And I realized that I may not have a lot of things I’m seeking right now, but I’ve got a pretty terrific cheering section. And I’ve been on the damn bleachers long enough — I just need to figure out a way to get the coaches to let me play again … it’s time to win for a change!

On iTunes: Gwen Stefani, “What You Waiting For 2004 (DJ Chaos Breakbeat Remix)”

When you break a bone, you get a cast. When you pull a muscle, you get a bottle of Percocet. When you rip open your skin, you get a bandage. What happens, though, when your spirit is seemingly exorcised?

There’s a constant mental tug-of-war going on in the hearts and minds of many who make a decision and, when faced with the consequences, wonder what the hell got into them when said decision was made. I’m not talking about regret for the sake of regret (e.g., you’re sorry for more than just what happened to you specifically). What I’m thinking about is how it is true how the flapping of a butterfly’s wing can literally change the tides around the world. We make a thousand decisions a day, not realizing that there is a consequence to every single action, down to whether you decided to merge into the passing lane at a particular time. Not all consequences are bad, of course, and it is always argued that each move was meant to happen the way it did — it’s that whole “there’s a reason behind everything” mantra.

In any event, it occurs to me that, the more you do, the more bad things are likely to happen. But, conversely, you’re upping your odds for better things, too. I mean, I did something that was a total waste of time this morning. And I knew it would be. But I made a deal with myself that I would learn something from it and that something would happen to offset the utter uselessness of it all. And something did happen to erase the ugly memory from earlier. I’m still struggling with the lesson in the first thing, though. Maybe it was a reality check, although that’s the only check I have that hasn’t bounced lately.

Anyway, I went out and had a little bit of fun with a friend. We used to have the best times, but with me becoming a hermit for various reasons, I’ve missed our companionship. But I don’t know that I’m that good of company anymore; maybe I should just stay hidden until the tide turns. But if I keep clinging to the underside of a wave, it’s going to drown me. Perhaps a little entertainment here and there won’t kill me. I don’t know — I tend to choose pain because at least it means I’m still feeling something. But enjoying one’s time provides such a wonderful reprieve. It reminds you that you want to switch the balance and feel elation over ache any day. It’s been so long since I dreamed, danced, sang out loud, wrote a poem, wept with joy. But as difficult as it is to envision doing those things again, I have to believe I will … that I can. I hope there will come a day that I can’t find a reason not to do those things and more.

On iTunes: Bertie Higgins, “Key Largo”

Dear Universe:

Love, Dawn

On iTunes: Taste of Honey, “Boogie Oogie Oogie”